Now We Are Free
by Retarded Seal
Summary: "The first duty of a man is to think for himself" ― José Martí
1. Chapter 1

Of all the places one had to be dragged into, it had to be the blackened land of Mordor.

It wasn't a bad place per say, not unless you were an orc or some other god-forsaken creature. The land literally poisoned your lungs faster than the International Smokers Meeting and housed denizens of questionable characters namely giant arachnids, carnivorous bats, statues that would stare at you creepily and tens of thousands of deformed beings called orcs.

And to top it off, I'm one.

My name was Thraka and I came into being from a source I would not want to talk about for it was highly traumatizing and violated a shit ton of human rights. My first days here consisted of being beaten, pushed around and abused by my superiors. In my times of solace, I would try and tinker with everyday items in a bid to make life a bit more normal. It was hard grasping the notion that I would eventually die by some guy or at the hands of my own brethren for if one would take a glance on how Orcish society worked then it would remind you how lion prides worked- The only way to get to the top was by killing the guy on top.

Orcish society too was interesting in a tribal sense, your weapon wasn't limited to the one on your hand but to your every being. From mind, body and your own name. A good name was respected and feared hence we get the guys like Azog the Defiler or that Bolg character I read about in the Hobbit. Another interesting bit about Orcish society was that it was divided to tiny groups especially when Our Lord and Savior Sauron wasn't around.

The Black Speech was created by Sauron so that his underlings could have a language to identify with each other but when left to our devices, we tended to create our own languages. And the racism that falls in too. Orcs hated other Orcs especially if they weren't of the same group and that hatred also extended to goblins and half-orcs.

Another thing was that Orcs are pretty volatile creatures, falling into deep rages even at the smallest of things. There were many a time where I witnessed a poor glob getting gutted because he did something that irked a bigger guy. Only orcs that had age with them were able to have a bit more control and even then it was limited.

Speaking of old orcs, I happened to get conscripted by one.

I was only minding my own business when my Captain, a glob named Uzdu the Black called for me from his tent. Not realizing what on Earth was going to happen, I dragged my sorry arse off and entered his tent to see him talking to another orc.

"So this is the one eh?" said the Orc, eyeing me up and down with curious eyes.

Uzdu nodded

"Aye, this one is smart. Not like the usual shrakh that pops out"

Was that a jab at my interracial heritage, bitch?

The orc stepped closer towards me with an appraising eye and came at me just by eye-level "So what's your name worm?" he asked.

I straightened my posture and replied

"Thraka." His eyes narrowed.

"What do you want to have in life Thraka?" He questioned me. I replied.

"To live." I answered, honest in tone. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before turning to Uzdu who was watching with feint interest.

"I'll take him" he said.

Uzdu nodded

"Alright them, Always wanted to get him off my back."

At that, he left the tent and declared that I was no longer a part of his group and I was now with a fellow named Oddo the Elder.

The next thing that I knew was me leaving with Oddo the first thing in the morning.

He was an old timer who had seen everything and possessed a mind far more sensible than the usual orc.

For one, he didn't order daily beatings around, he had an eye for drills to ensure cohesion and took a liking to fighting in shield-walls. He took that idea after engaging escaped Gondorian prisoners who holed up in a crevice and for a few hours held their ground with nothing more than shields and makeshift spears before eventually succumbing to our numbers and exhaustion.

His merry little band wasn't numerous per se but was one of the more "better at smashing" gangs. And that reputation Oddo painfully kept to the latter. His band was well-disciplined (For a orc), better trained and didn't fight with cheap Iron weapons and armour. We had swords. Real steel swords. And wore captured Gondorian armour albeit repainted to fit with Mordor colours.

But after this, I asked Oddo a question on why he took me from Uzdu and what was to be my role in his group or rather, clan. His response was interesting.

"I took you from Uzdu because you had potential to be something else asides from gutting a glob. You are smart Thraka. And I would live to see you use it for all of us"

When I asked how he was able to take me when orc clans hated each other, he laughed and said "Uzdu owes me a favour. I saved his sons' life from an arrow wound. There was no way he'd refuse me."

And so began my chapter in life as Thraka the Smart. 

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A/N: Taking this from my SB account. Pastah_Farian. 


	2. Chapter 2

Allow me to reiterate what type of people orcs are.

Let's say you found a little, baby bird that fell from a tree. Let's say you took it back home, nursed it to health and loved it with all your heart and soul. Then a friendly orc comes up, takes the bird from you and stomps it to a bloody pulp with an iron boot all the while laughing as your tears fall freely down the ground.

Yes, that's how they were like. In a way I'd understand why orcs were like these. Their origins stem from being products of a malevolent swine of a deity and everyone else hates them. But then again, encounters are avoidable.

Oggo took it to himself to make sure that his orcs would not waste their lives being filth and ensured that we had activities to do such as regular drilling, warg hunting (terrifying business that's for sure) and other extra-curricular acts that I would not be willing to divulge further. But anyhow, he ensured that we as a group would not enter the same category as the rest of the Mordorian army.

Speaking of an armies, we and an accompanying slave caravan were on the road to join a warband that was to head west, into Gondor.

Gondor, that made me a bit worried. What year was it? I had no idea what the date was and that is worrying. Were the events of the Lord of the Rings happening? Or was it still the events of the Hobbit? I needed to be bloody sure so that I wouldn't be caught with my trousers down.

Well, since the best way to get information was from prisoners then to prisoners I shall go.

Halbarad scowled under his breath as he pushed a heavy wagon along with the other prisoners. The horde was on the move and that meant more beatings, whippings and the like to come. At his side, Lothíriel, his source of strength sighed as she pushed the wagon with him. The road was more dangerous now for she was eight months pregnant and the stress she received would not be suitable for her and her child. The sight of his love being made to endure all this labor made his blood boil. If he had the chance, he would gladly break the Overseer's neck! Just for her to be safe.

Said Overseer was gleefully whipping a captured Elf until her skin was visibly turned purple by the lashings. Her voice crying out at each strike. Halbard was always fascinated with elves for they were rare to see and filled with wisdom and wit and not to mention that elf was his friend. A few weeks ago, he and his wife were captured on the road and were brought to Mordor to endure back-breaking labour. It was made all the worse when their Slavemaster, Gorza he was called, discovered that his wife was pregnant and that wretched creature did everything to satiate his sadistic desire to see her suffer.

He and his fellow prisoners were forced to watch her getting her fingers crushed by a hammer and in a cruel, sadistic streak, the worm cut off her already meagre rations. It was a miracle that she hadn't had a miscarriage as of yet, all thanks to the elf who was a skilled healer.

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a duo of orcs approaching the Overseer and in hushed tones, said something that made the overseer stop his whipping. The fat orc turned towards them and it took him to concentrate to hear their conversation

"I can't stop this lot!" protested the worm "I have a deadline to meet here!" One of the orcs, an orc with mannish features snorted

"Oh yeah? Why are ya stopping to whip this little sprite here eh?" He gestured towards the panting elf. "I'm pretty sure Gazrahk Skullsplitter won't be a bit too pleased to hear you damaging one of his goods!"

The orc paled at that and turned towards them.

"Slaves!" barked the Slavemaster "Stop you maggots! You all have a few minutes rest until we move!"

He turned towards the mannish orc, who had an indifferent expression about him "Anything else?" asked the overseer, the elder-looking orc talked this time

"We want you to gather a few prisoners so that we can interrogate them for information. Make it quick!" The overseer nodded

A few minutes later, Halbarad and a few other slaves were whipped into a straight line by the Overseer and in front of them were the two orcs from earlier, he noticed that the mannish orc was eyeing him and his wife and that worried him deeply. What sort of foul torture might these creatures inflict?

Thus began their interrogation. It certainly wasn't the interrogation he was used to as the orcs calmly asked the prisoners a couple of questions which was strange. If a prisoner refused to answer, they would move on to the next one.

Until they eventually came to him.

"You!" asked the mannish orc "What is it that you do?" His brow furrowed but not wanting to endanger his wife, he answered them.

"I'm a Blacksmith" Why were they asking these questions?

"Blacksmith eh?" said the Elder orc "Where from?"

"The North" replied the man, a bit of a fire in his voice. He had missed his homeland dearly after all.

"I see..." the orc trailed before whispering something into the old orc's ears, the orc nodded and turned towards the overseer "Come with me!" he commanded "And take your slaves!" The overseer, visibly bored nodded.

Now it was only him and the mannish orc. What would happen now he wondered?

"They won't take too long so I'll make this quick" What? "I'm here to make you a deal. I want you to work for me and my boss and in exchange, I'll free you and your woman who I hear is pregnant. Do we have a deal?"

That he wasn't expecting. His face said it all and the orc, whose face was growing agitated said again

"Ya daft? I'm offering you a deal here to save your wife and your life."

That prospect he was considering. Should he take it?

"You know what? Let me sweeten the deal for you..."

In the end, All it costed me was a bit of some knife-work. I could see that the he didn't particularly take it too kindly of Gorza being a dick to his wife and other prisoners so I offered the orc's head in a burlap sack.

A bit of that then we were heading back to our camp with a couple of 'slaves' in tow.

It was the blacksmith, his wife and that elven healer from earlier.

Now my reasons were simply this.

The Blacksmith could work as our weapon smith and my future plans needed a skilled worker. His wife was extra baggage to look after but I needed him to be cooperative and as for the elf...

She could be useful in healing and teaching and could be an excellent source of information alongside the blacksmith.

Time will tell if this decision would be a boon to celebrate or a ghost that would haunt my ass. 

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A/N: And to repeat what has been said. I don't own anything.


End file.
